


You're Gonna Pay For This

by dropdeaddeadass



Series: kinktober 2020 [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Choking, Consensual Sex, Crying, Dom/sub Undertones, Drinking, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fred Weasley Lives, Hate Sex, Insults, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Ministry of Magic, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Protected Sex, Readers House isn't determined, Reunions, Rough Sex, Ruining dresses, Smut, Stressed Reader, Use of a belt, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:14:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27041065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dropdeaddeadass/pseuds/dropdeaddeadass
Summary: You should be at work still, you think, laboring away in your office whilst the rest of the ministry parties into the night. Fred doesn't help make anything better.
Relationships: Fred Weasley/Original Female Character, Fred Weasley/Reader, Fred Weasley/You
Series: kinktober 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955581
Comments: 4
Kudos: 135





	You're Gonna Pay For This

**Author's Note:**

> a mixture of two lovely requests from tumblr (@ dropdeaddeadass) where it was fred/reader smut!  
> i had a bit of a struggle trying to find a hate sex dynamic i hadn't done before but i'm happy with the result
> 
> kudos and comments are appreciated and welcomed, hope you enjoy!!

"Now I understand why you want to stay home, love," You turned to see Fred leaning on the doorframe of your bedroom door, swallowing your form in the cocktail dress you'd picked out. You rolled your eyes and fixed the hem, sliding it up and down your leg to see what looked best. Your face scrunched up as you soon found nothing to be good enough. "You're making me want to stay home, with you looking like that."

"You have a way with words Weasley," You huffed, biting the inner part of your cheek. The clock on the wall read 5:41, the gala began at 6:00. You kept focusing on the way your dress fell, how it felt and the way the light reflected onto it. You knew Fred was watching, taking pleasure in seeing you fluff about with your appearance. Once you were the most satisfied you could be with your dress you moved onto accessories. A few clutches and handbags were strewn about the floor, and shoes were lined up in front of the mirror. You fretted over the mess, moving to begin the clean up as you picked out the white-grey clutch to match the heels you'd chosen. 

Fred tsked, moving to stop you, "We're going to be late if you clean this up."

Firing back quickly, you replied, "Good, that's what I want."

"It's just a gala, what's so bad about it, love?" 

"There is so much work piled up on me right now. There's no time for partying, I'm not a teenager anymore."

Fred leant down and clasped your cheeks in his hands, notching your head so you looked him in the eyes, "There's always the time for a party. Maybe this is what you need, a good amount of stress relief." His eyes drifted down to your lips, stealing a short kiss. 

You pulled away sharply though, "Easy for you to say. You don't have two ministers breathing down your neck." Huffing, you pulled your clutch close, and fiddled with the jewelry around your neck. Fred inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, preparing himself for the night that would be. 

You did join hands with him when you both stepped into the fireplace though, the green flame enveloping the pair of you. When you stepped out onto the black tile, you felt sick. Fred's hand at the small of your back kept you upright, but you still weren't steady. You should have refused him when he said he'd accompany you for the night, you should've stayed at the office, grinding away as the rest of the ministry danced into the early hours of the morning. 

The gala in question was to celebrate the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, where guest speaker and key Auror Harry Potter would yet again speak on the resilience the Wizarding World upheld. Hermione Granger, the new Minister for Magic (or stand in at least) would be hosting and running the event alongside Harry. Not only was there a desire for all Ministry staff to be in attendance, it would serve as a reunion of sorts. 

Hermione had paired herself strongly with Ron shortly after the battle, and after an internal scandal Harry and Ginny had split. Almost all of your friends worked for the ministry, and enjoyed comfortable and merlin, even fun jobs. You however were stuck in meetings lasting from dawn until dusk and client conferences until you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore. You should've just become a professor. 

Fred however had it _so_ easy in your eyes. He ran his joke shop with George and seemed to come home from work happy and content, whilst you were angry and tired, and above all else stressed out. 

"You alright there?" Freds hand pressed into your hip, hand draped over your back. You didn't turn to face him as the pair of you weaved through the crowd, attempting to find your table. 

"Fine." You managed to ground out, voice laced with thick annoyance. 

Fred didn't say anything, knowing not to poke the bear that was your anger. When the two of you approached your table you noticed some of your former classmates. Ron sat by himself, though he didn't look bored. He pretended to fling food at Draco Malfoy who sat opposite him. Upon the notice of your arrival, Ron jumped at the opportunity to say hello. 

"Y/N! It's so great to see you!" He bypassed Fred to get to you, arms constricting you. You returned the sentiment, before the younger-red head turned to hug his brother. You smiled to Malfoy, who appeared overjoyed by your appearance. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for someone to come between me and him." 

Fred pulled out your chair and you gave him a small smile, slipping into the chair. He sat beside you, which left Draco on your right. You gave a small chuckle, "I can tell, I could see him flinging food from a mile away. You're looking well Draco."

He seemed happy with that comment, "I didn't want to bring it up myself," You rolled your eyes, of course despite how civil and friendly Draco had become with the Golden Trio once the war was over he still was as fiery and quick-witted as he had been prior. "But I am looking ravishing, even Harry told me so, in front of everyone!" He beamed. 

You smiled to him, taking his hand over the table, squeezing it. "I'm so happy for you Draco." 

"Enough about me, for now at least. How are you and Fred?" He questioned. You glanced over your shoulder, Fred was engaged with Ron as they jabbed each other with their hands, like children allowed at the adult table. George had joined them, sitting in Hermione's seat presumably, and antagonized Ron from a different angle. You focused your attention back to your friend, "We're going steady. I've moved in with him, have been for a while actually. I'm just so busy with work I forget to tell people sometimes."

The lights in the great ballroom dimmed slightly as the room quietened down. "Well I am ecstatic you're here tonight, whether you came with Fred or not." Draco softly replied as Hermione gracefully floated across the stage. All eyes were on her as glasses began to be filled by servers walking around. You swiveled in your seat, knocking knees with Fred. 

In the dim light he offered you a small smile, one you didn't see. On stage Hermione began her welcome, thanking everyone for their support and guidance on how the evening would run. She had the attention of the whole world it md - you included. Getting a tap on your shoulder you turned your head to see a server with two bottles, you chose the sparkling white and sipped at it while you listened. 

"Tonight is about remembrance. To those who we have lost, but we also remember the resilience everyone in this room displays now, holding a recovering community up. The MC-" She began to indulge in the more boring schedule of events, to which you partially zoned out, sipping the champagne in your hand more heavily. You did make sure to listen in when the room exploded in applause though, placing your glass down onto the table so you could support your friend. 

_Now that you were here you might as well enjoy the night right?_

Dinner, as you had learned, was being served after a few awards and speeches were being made, which left about an hour and a half for mingling and absent conversation around the floor. You joined Fred hand in hand as you mingled through a sea of moving people. "Are you enjoying yourself, love?" 

"A few drinks have made it easier." You said idly, swirling now a red liquid in your hands. Still your mind drifted the the pile of paperwork you'd left on your desk. Given the chance you'd be on the first elevator down to your floor. 

"I can tell. You're getting giggly, I like it." He squeezed your hand. 

"Thanks, Freddie." You lied through your teeth, managing to let a fake giggle roll off your tongue. You weren't yet slurring. You were thankful that Fred was moving the pair of you around, because if you had it your way you'd stick by the table or your friends and skirt around them the entire night. 

The only time Fred left your side was for a refill of alcohol or some simple finger food. His arms were blissfully secured around your waist as you swayed. When you arrived to a particularly large group of wizards, some you recognized - others not, Fred untangled himself from you. Not to be left out in the cold you entertained the group with Fred. He, like his twin brother, had a particular way of telling stories and engaging in conversation; it involved a lot of hand work and wild expressions. You clasped you hand around his drink to avoid spilling as he flung his arms back, interpreting one of his products. 

A jokester by birth but a salesman by force is what you always thought. He was a people pleaser, a real social man. Not to say that you weren't social, but your work and job prohibited you from really getting out there these days. Even if he didn't intend to he was selling these wizards the idea of his products, and no doubt would reap sales from this encounter. You patted his arm softly, bringing him back to reality so he didn't accidentally wash some poor guest in alcohol. He smiled sheepishly and a light pink blush brushed his cheeks. 

When a new glass of liqueur appeared in his hand, you hadn't noticed. That was until it was splashed over your white-grey dress. A bright red stain spread across the shoulder of the dress, and seeped into the bodice. You turned to him, a fire in your eyes. As per usual he was all smiles and half-hearted apologies. When he reached out with a napkin to help blot the wine you wriggled out of his grasp, turning on your heel. He called out behind you but you were having none of it. 

Swinging the bathroom door open with force, you bent over the sink, pulling paper towels out of the dispenser. You patted yourself down, trying to get the excess wine out of your cocktail dress. Though magic would surely be a quicker and easier way of getting the wine out, you weren't thinking straight, spurred on by your emotions and slightly inebriated state. 

Exiting a stall behind you was Hermione herself, decorated in a lavish red dress that looked far too formal for the event, as if she were meeting the queen. She washed her hands and came to rest beside you. Your initial reaction was shock, "Shouldn't you be outside?"

"Harry's speaking. You look like you need my help more though. Is this Fred's doing?"

You crumpled against the sink. "He gets too excited sometimes. Like a puppy playing fetch."

"All the Weasley boys are like that." Hermione mused, pulling out her wand and casting a cleaning spell, the effects of the red wine still present on the dress though. The majority of the spill was cleaned though. "Are you alright though? I haven't seen you speaking much."

"I'm going to be honest here, Hermione, I really didn't want to come tonight. About seven stacks of paperwork await me on Monday and I'd like to just get them done." Work was piling up more and more, and it was giving you increasing stressors. 

"I understand, Y/N. If you'd like I can excuse the both of you, you look like you need rest."

You stood, staring yourself down in the mirror. "Don't bother telling Fred, I'm going to walk myself home." You pushed up off the stone ledge, "Thanks for the cleaning spell though, really appreciate it, Minister." Now that was certainly the alcohol talking. You exited the bathroom, leaving a stunned Hermione. 

You gathered your things silently from the table before turning and making a beeline for the exit, Fred hot on your trail after grabbing his coat. He hissed at you, attempting to gain your attention. "Y/N! Y/N!"

Once you were met with the silence of the main ministry hall you exhaled sharply. Fred pursued you like a scared parent going after their child, "What are you doing? Are you alright?" He bombarded you with questions, and with everyone you attempted to distance yourself from him. 

"Fuck off!" You finally hissed at him, aware that anyone could be listening. He recoiled. "Please, Fred, just go back inside. You seem to be having a good time without me, spilling drinks."

"Is that what this is about, because I spilled a drink?" You groaned, pushing past him, stumbling. He stood agape behind you, eyes narrowed on the back of your head. 

"No!" You groaned when Fred took your hand roughly, pulling you toward the fireplaces you'd entered from. 

"Come on! I'm not letting you go back to your office!" He grunted, trying to both keep you upright and with him. Once there was enough space you apparated, vanishing right from under him, leaving your clutch to clatter on the floor. 

When you came to, you were in a bush, hair unkempt. You cursed loudly, and tried to adjust your eyes to your surroundings. You were certainly in a park, though there was no surrounding lights. You stumbled for a moment like a newborn deer, all nobly knees and wide-eyes as you found refuge under a street lamp. Glancing around you knew where you were, only a fifteen minute walk from your flat, enough of a walk to sober you slightly. 

You began your walk, huffing and sighing. Goosebumps covered your arms, and without Freds usual arm around your shoulders or his over-sized coat you could feel the chill creeping up on you. The cold helped you sober up, though there was still definitely going to be a slur or giggle to your voice whenever you got home. 

Knowing Fred would be furious with you, you thought of aparating back to the ministry and finding someone's house to crash at. Draco would let you, right? Turning the corner of your apartment block you felt an even colder breeze, causing you to quicken your pace, diving for the lobby doors. You neglected the man at the front desk, who you were never sure was a wizard or not. 

A quiet rage still simmered inside you as you slammed your floors button on the elevator. _He had it so easy, all the time, why couldn't he understand that?_ You thought as the elevator dinged, allowing you to stumble down the hallway, fists changing from clenched hands to relaxed fingers trying to hold onto anything. The alcohol did not help your thoughts, rather it spurred you on. Fred was going to get an earful when you got home. 

Out front of your flat you pounded your fist against the door, before you realized there was no need to wait for Fred to answer the door, if he had even gone straight home at all. Tucked inside your dress was your wand, it had a small, concealed pocket along your torso, to which you fished around for the opening of the pocket, muttering the alohomora charm when you grasped it. 

You were thankful the door didn't swing open, only a small clicking sound, notifying you that the spell had worked. You stepped inside, locking the door behind you and fumbled for the lights. In the middle of the main room was Fred, standing with shaking hands, opposed from George. You rolled your eyes and avoided their gaze. 

"I think it'd be best if I left now, Freddie. She's found her way home." George stepped backwards, keeping as quiet as he could. You bypassed the two brothers, heading for the kitchen. You heard the whoosh of the floo network and Freds shoes approach you. 

"Do you know how worried I was, Y/N? Why would you do that, you're under th-"

"Don't fucking lecture me, Weasley." You spat, bending down to see what was in the fridge. You fished out a half-empty bottle of wine. 

"I'm not lecturing you, dearie. I'm only trying to understand." His voice was calm, smooth, like honey. He softly grabbed the bottle out of your hands and placed it back in the fridge. "Come on, lets get you to b-"

You cut him off again, shoving him back. "First you lecture me, now you're babying me? Merlin, Fred. I fucking hate you." You turned a sharp corner, resting your back against the nearest wall so you could slip your shoes off. "Seriously, Fred, I told you how stressed I was and all you suggest is that I party? I'm not eighteen anymore!" You yelled, your words lingering in the air, you continued though. "It's so easy for you. Why can't you understand that? Everyone _loves_ you, and you- you can party and do whatever you want! I work 24 hours a day!" You flung your shoes across the room where they made a resounding clunk. Fred finally made an appearance to your rant, calm and careful. 

"You don't hate me, Y/N, you're just drunk, can you come h-"

"No! I do hate you!" He recoiled. "You run that stupid fucking joke shop and get all the praise in the world. It's ridiculous! Don't touch me!"

Fred had placed up permanent silencing charms, and you knew that in the morning you'd be thankful that your neighbors didn't have to hear you screeching and screaming. He kept his distance, but there was a hurt look in his eyes. Never had you been so angry with him, and it wasn't even his fault (though you seemed to think so.) You finally stopped speaking to catch up with your breath, face red and hands trembling. "Freddie.." _Shit, shit, shit_ was all you could think as your boyfriend skirted past you and into your bedroom. 

"No, no. It's fine. I get it. You fucking hate me." He called, voice raising. "Can't say the same for you though, Y/N. You're bloody annoying sometimes."

"Oh? I'm annoying?" You scrunched up your face, following him into your shared bedroom. He held a pile of blankets in his arms with a pillow stacked on top. "What are you doing?"

"Sleeping on the couch. Since you think I'm the worst person in the world for giving a shit about you, you can have the bed tonight. Enjoy it."

"You're the worst person for not letting me stay at work!"

"So this is what this is about? You're stupid work-a-holic bullshit? You're an idiot." 

You bellowed. "I'm an idiot? Me!?"

Fred inhaled deeply, not turning to meet your gaze. "Yes. We'll talk about this in the morning, alright?"

"No. You just called me an idiot. Do you have anything else to say, Weasley?" You taunted, following him, hot on his heels as he dumped the sheets on the couch that sat in front of the fireplace. You huffed and stomped, like a child throwing a temper tantrum. At this point you didn't know if it was even the alcohol or stress doing the talking for you, but you certainly would have to make it up to him for the rest of his life, if not just tomorrow morning. 

He turned rapidly on his ankle, stalking you and pinning you to the wall behind you. One hand clasped around your throat, the other was pressed against the wall next to your head. You gasped abruptly, glancing upwards at him through your lashes, mouth agape. "I do, actually. You're a brat at the worst of times," His hand squeezed around your throat, a tingle of arousal made your eyes widen. "You're so unbelievable stupid too. I was trying my best, my hardest to make tonight as less stressful for you as possible, but you pulled a stunt." Fred released his grip slightly, moving his knee so that it slotted between your legs. "And now, I've got to punish you."

You gulped, very aware that your arousal was growing. You didn't dare move when Fred released his grip entirely, removing his knee from between your legs. Your own hand came up to touch at your neck, watching him with full eyes. "Fred I-"

"Be quiet." He snapped with as much ferocity as you had shown him just prior. He pulled you off the wall, palms curled around your waist. "To think I wanted to give you what you wanted tonight," He mused, sitting you down on the armrest of the couch, before pushing you down so that your back was flush with the cushion and your legs were up in the air.

Fred tore off his dress shirt above you, unbuckling his belt and letting it crumple to the floor. You kept quiet. "Oh, so now you've got nothing to say?" He faked pouted, bending down so that he was at your eye level. "Hurry up, I have work in the morning, at that _stupid fucking_ _joke shop_ ," He mocked you. Your mouth went dry as you surged your head in order to reach your goal of kissing him. He tore his head away, returning to his full height. "Only good girls get kisses."

You now felt very, very sober as Fred stood above you. You pushed yourself up abruptly, reaching around your back to find the zipper to your dress. Fred moved out of the way so you could stand and shed your dress. With the chance, you dashed around the couch and skirted yourself into your bedroom, jumping onto the neatly made bed. You heard Fred's low chuckle from the other room. He came back into view as you wriggled out of your panties. From the doorframe he threw his belt, it landed on your stomach with a soft slap. You gulped and worked to unhook your bra, fingers shaking in anticipation. 

The bed dipped behind you, and his voiced snaked around your ears. "Give me your wrists." He whispered. You willingly lifted your hands above and behind your head, where you felt the cool leather bind your hands together. "Is this okay?" He asked, all arousal gone from his voice, a genuine seriousness to his tone. You nodded and smiled, though you were unsure if he could see it. He praised you quietly, and you heard the zipper of his pants. 

He repositioned himself between your legs, left hand pushing back your thighs so he could have easier access, and his right hand came to cup you. The sudden contact had you moaning loudly. Slowly he entered a finger into your hole, pushing past the ring of muscles, while letting his other hand roam freely over your splayed body. He stayed mostly silent as he pushed another finger into you, abandoning your clit as he solely worked on opening you up. "Please Fred-"

"No. You've been a right brat tonight." You flushed red, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he added a third finger. He continued to pump his fingers, occasionally brushing up against that spot inside of you. "You don't get pleasure tonight, you hear me?" He removed his fingers and grasped your cheek, moving his whole body closer to you. You nodded, his wet hand leaving a sloppy mark on your cheek. He relaxed back onto his ankles, kneeling before you in only his boxer briefs. 

You tried to refocus yourself, stabilizing your breathing as Fred worked in front of you, using wandless magic to summon a condom and lube, of all things. He made quick work on himself, twisting his wrist, pumping himself before he aligned his cock with your entrance. Though he had just said tonight you weren't going to get any pleasure, you whined and gasped when he sheathed himself inside of you. 

No amount of prep would ever prepare you for his size, and as he began to thrust you felt the small pit of arousal deepen and grow. "Such a pretty pussy, hmm? Too bad you're a brat." He grunted after a particularly deep thrust. Below him your body was exposed, part of the unspoken punishment being that you couldn't touch him, you arms bound above your head. "Thank Merlin I won't have your stupid scratch marks down my back tomorrow. Georgie can always see them." 

You rolled your head back body shuddering as Fred thrusted, listening to him speak and ramble while he was buried deep inside you. "Real quiet now aren't you. Stupid brat." You whined, trying to lift your body so you could be closer to him but he quickly stopped you, pushing your bound wrists back down onto the bed. He hovered over you while he bottomed out, your legs moving to wrap around his waist. You angled your head up to meet him, craving a kiss. 

"Please, Fred, _please_." You whined. He ignored you, focusing on his own pleasure. Tears pricked at the inner part of your eyes, but you kept steady, not wanting to cry during sex, where Fred really didn't seem to be having any of it. You swallowed the lump in your throat, replacing it with a choked moan. His pace quickened and his thrusts became more angled. You, despite the lack of touching, also began to feel the same pit of arousal building and building until you almost overflowed. 

"Don't cum. You'll be a good girl if you cum when I say." He grunted, removing himself from your face and was back to an upright position between your legs. Your eyes widened, and you pulled your head forward. Fred was smirking down at you, eyes raking over your body now covered with a sheen of sweat. To make his command worse, his hand snaked down your stomach and lightly circled your clit. You cried out, more tears pricking at your eyes. 

"Fred! Please! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You sobbed, body feeling the effects of your orgasm as you came without his permission. The involuntary clench of your walls coaxed his orgasm out of him, but he quickly abandoned the feeling as he reached up to undo his belt around your wrists. Your hands flung to any skin you could get your hands on. Fred dropped the angry demeanor as soon as he noticed legitimate tears were rolling down your cheeks, pulling your body up so he could hold you close. You still mumbled quick apologies under your staggered breath as his hand came to rub up and down your back. 

"It's okay love," He shushed you soothingly, "I'm not angry with you, it's alright." He moved his hips slightly as he pulled out, cock softening. Fred held you for a moment as you calmed down. When he noticed your breathing begin to slow and deepen he used his leverage to lay you down further up on the bed. You could hear his feet padding on the hardwood floor shortly after as he grabbed a cloth from the adjoined bathroom. 

Fred soon returned, warm cloth in tow. He sat down beside you, the bed dipping under him. He wiped your cheek first, where he'd carelessly wiped his hand of your juices. Your eyes fixated on his face as he cleaned you up, lips pressing into a thin line. He dumped the cloth onto your bedside table, leaving yet again to fetch a new pair of boxers for himself and one of his old worn shirts for you. 

"Freddie?" Your voice was hoarse as you slipped on the shirt. He hummed in response, pulling his boxers up his long legs. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to-" He cut you off when he finally appeared in bed next to you. 

"It's okay, Y/N. I'll make sure you get a day or two off." He sealed your worries with a kiss, a quiet goodnight mumbled between the two of you. 

**Author's Note:**

> yes the fighting seems forced , i just really didn't know how to write an angry fred tbh


End file.
